


A Helping Hand

by ephemeralembers



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Plot? What Plot?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 13:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5667355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralembers/pseuds/ephemeralembers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack has a headache, Phryne helps him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was loosely based on/inspired by this quote from "Letters to Milena" by Franz Kafka: 
> 
> “I’m tired, can’t think of a thing and my sole wish is to lay my head on your lap, feel your hands on my head, and stay that way through all eternity.” 
> 
> *While writing this, I just assumed Jack was more or less living with Phryne, but still has his own place, too.

\----------------------

Jack knocked off from work a bit earlier than usual. When he arrived at Phryne’s house, Mr. Butler greeted him and took his overcoat. “Good evening, sir. Can I get you anything? A drink, perhaps?”

“No thank you, Mr. Butler. Is Phryne home?”

“Yes sir, she’s upstairs. I believe she’s just finished her bath.”

Jack thanked Mr. Butler and treaded up the stairs to Phryne’s room. Before entering, he tapped on the solid door to make his presence known and not startle her. Phryne, propped up against the abundance of pillows on her bed, was dressed in a light pink silk slip and was reading a novel she was clearly engrossed in. When she finished reading a passage, she turned her attention away from the book and onto Jack.

“Hello my darling. You’re home early.”

Jack let out an exasperated sigh and tossed his jacket on the foot of the bed and loosened his tie. He unbuttoned his waistcoat and settled himself next to Phryne and shut his eyes.

“You look exhausted. Are you all right?” The concern in her voice was apparent. “Let me call Mr. Butler to prepare a drink for you.”

“Oh, no thank you. It’s just a blinding headache. As fortifying as his drinks are, I have a feeling that would make it worse.”

Phryne set aside her book after she’d marked her place. She placed a hand on his arm and tugged at it lightly, gesturing for him to come closer to her. He did not resist. Jack maneuvered his body across the bed so that his head was in her lap. The silk of her slip was smooth against his skin and the soft curve of her thigh supported his neck comfortably. Phryne ran her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp gently. Jack hummed in approval.

“Do you want to talk about it, Jack?” she asked.

“It’s just a headache,” he insisted, “nothing thrilling to discuss.”

“You work too much.”

“I have no choice.”

“I know, but I do worry about you sometimes.” As she continued massaging his scalp, she could feel the tension in his neck easing.

He opened his eyes to look up at her. “You don’t need to worry about me, I’ll be fine,” he reassured her and took her free hand from his chest and kissed her palm. 

“I know I don’t have to, but I can’t help it. I wish we could be working together on this case but with Jane being home so little, I want to spend as much of this holiday with her as possible." She was still lightly rubbing Jack’s scalp. His wavy hair released from the pomade she often thought he used too much of. She liked his hair in its natural, untamed state.

“Phryne, darling, it’s all right. Besides, if I know you, you'll find some way to get involved,” he laughed. “Now, care to tell me about that book you were so enthralled by when I came in?”

“Oh, yes, _The Day of the Beast_.”

“You’re reading a Zane Grey?” Jack asked with a hint of surprise in his question. “What do you think of it?”

“Well, it’s certainly no Lady Chatterley’s Lover, but it’s quite good.”

Jack’s lips curved into a smile. “I’m glad you think so. That’s one of my favorites by Grey.”

“Mmm, I could tell. It was one of the more well-loved books on your shelf. So naturally, I decided to see what about it intrigued you so much.”

“Aha! So that’s what's missing from my shelf,” he laughed.

 

Phryne had absentmindedly stopped massaging his scalp mid-conversation. She noticed his mouth was no longer tensed up trying to fight the pain. He was more relaxed and his brow was significantly less furrowed. She gazed at him admiringly, tracing his hairline with her fingertips. Her delicate touch was lulling him into a light sleep. “How is your headache? Any better?”

“Much better,” he replied in a drowse.

Phryne leaned over and placed a kiss on his forehead. Being careful not to disturb him, she reached to her bedside table for the Zane Grey and picked up where she left off in the novel she was slowly growing to enjoy.


End file.
